


Marked

by madelinewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Demons, Dungeon, F/M, Kidnapping, MOC - Freeform, Mention of weapons, angsty romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinewrites/pseuds/madelinewrites
Summary: A dangerous curse, an undeniable attraction. When Y/N finds herself captured by a terrifying yet beautiful man, she must decide how dark she’s willing to go for the sake of love.





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader
> 
> Prompt: “No one knows you’re here” for @roxy-davenport ‘s Halloween Challenge- sorry it’s taken so long! Thank you for understanding!
> 
> Summary: A dangerous curse, an undeniable attraction. When Y/N finds herself captured by a terrifying yet beautiful man, she must decide how dark she’s willing to go for the sake of love.
> 
> Word Count: 4273
> 
> Betas: Thank you @loveitsallineed and @aprofoundbondwithdean for fact checking for me! I appreciate it a ton!
> 
> Warnings: kidnapping, demon, dungeon + mention of weapons, angsty romance, demon!Dean, MOC
> 
> A/N Happy Thanksgiving! Hope everyone’s having a great day, and if you just need a second away from the family, I hope you can get swept up in my story <3 Thank you for reading and, as always, FEEDBACK IS NEEDED, LOVED, AND VERY VERY APPRECIATED!!!!!!

**“He was everything your mother warned you about when she told you not to walk alone in the dark.” _―[Nenia Campbell](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.goodreads.com%2Fauthor%2Fshow%2F6563933.Nenia_Campbell&t=Zjg1ZTQyYTg5MzA1NTJhMTk4ZDFhMjU1OTNhNjBmNjQ1ZDc1Y2EyZSw2Q25QUXo5OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AluPKBkHePrWFoEVtGkY0Lg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdeansleather.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F153621569613%2Fmarked&m=1), [Armed and Dangerous](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.goodreads.com%2Fwork%2Fquotes%2F22385387&t=ZDcyOGU1Y2E3MzRhYWIzZGI3YmMxZGZkZGE0MzBlM2E0OTU4NzkxNSw2Q25QUXo5OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AluPKBkHePrWFoEVtGkY0Lg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdeansleather.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F153621569613%2Fmarked&m=1)_**

You awoke, and began shifting your arms to rub the sleep from your eyes. You yanked harder when your arm wasn’t able to rise, your groggy state not understanding. You blinked, slowly realizing the abnormality. You sat in the middle of a grungy room, the walls built of thick stone bricks, on a wooden chair. Your hands were bound behind you, the wood of the chair digging into the bottom of your thighs harshly. The chains constricting you to the chair didn’t stop at your hands, they wrapped around your shoulders and ankles, leaving you completely confined. Your breathing suddenly became labored as you began to jerk around harshly. _Where the hell am I?_

You tried to trace the steps, figure out how you could’ve gotten there, but it was just…gone. You barely remembered your own name. Y/N. It was the only thing that felt right. You replayed the name over and over in your mind, the only sense of comfort you could grasp at.

A dungeon, it had to be. It was pretty much the most stereotypical kind, chains hanging from the ceiling, the floor ice cold, tools to inflict pain hung ominously on the walls. You swallowed. What could you have done to land you there? And who the hell would have captured you?

You heard him before you saw him, his strong, self-assured steps carrying him into the door behind you. The room was dark, save for the torch flickering on the wall. You could hear the distant sound of voices, but they were covered by his steps and the rattling of your chains. You could feel the water hanging in the air. Yet amidst all this, the most shocking part was his appearance.

A suited man came into your sight, his tall stance immediately intimidating. He paced around you, circle after circle. You counted the rotations, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. 1, 2, 3. Stop. He stood mere feet in front of you, and you cursed to yourself about your panicking. You could hardly function, let alone think clearly enough to save yourself. Your vision went black for a moment, the fear and anxiety slowly sickening you. Finally, you were able to take him in.

His suit was impeccably tailored, not a wrinkle or hair on it. His shoes matched, black and shiny, as if they were bought seconds ago. Everything about him was clean-cut, smooth and put together. Handsome, undeniably so, which just made you feel sicker. Under the flickering torch light, it was hard to distinguish his exact features, but you saw something very clearly; how his eyes changed from bright to a deep black. Even the whites turned black, and he smirked slightly at your reaction.

“Never gets old,” his voice rang out, deep and authoritative. Slowly, he began to step forward, having to tilt his head town to keep the heavy eye contact he had with you.

“Oh god,” you whispered, shaking everywhere.

“Not quite,” he snickered, kneeling down to be directly on your level. His face was much too close for comfort, tilting to the side ever-so-slowly.

“Why am I here?” you asked, trying to sound forceful, but it still came out as a whimper. He smirked slightly, standing and spinning on his heels.

“Why are you here?” he repeated, enunciating every word. He pushed on one of the wall’s bricks, opening up a small little cubby. Within it was some type of alcohol and a single glass, pristine and crisp. He poured himself some, the amber liquid filling the glass midway, before calmly turning back to you.

“Aren’t you all about fate? Predestination? What God wants,” he put out his arms, shrugging. “God gets.”

You stared, wild-eyed, ready for some clarification. Was this some sort of religious thing? You had as good of relationship with God as most people, but you were never fanatic about it. He hummed at your silence.

“Hmm, no comment, sweetheart?” he questioned, his gaze remaining on you consistently. He took a sip of his drink. “Well let’s see if you can answer some of my other questions. If not, of course that’s fine, we’ll just have to…” He held up a large, serrated blade from the wall. “Figure something else out.”

It felt as if something your chest broke, and breathing became nearly impossible. You looked away from him, your stomach churning seeing that blade in his hand.

“What do you want?” you managed to choke out, clenching your eyes shut.

You didn’t even hear him move, but his large hand was suddenly holding your chin, his fingers stretching across your cheek, forcing your eyes to meet. You pleaded with your eyes, your lip quivering.

“I’ve seen you working Castiel and Sam. I would expect them to be idiotic enough to search for me, but I’m not interested in fresh meat joining the pathetic hunt for the old me,” he sneered, pulling your head forward roughly. “So who the hell are _you_?”

You attempted to shake your head, but couldn’t in his grasp. Vague memories started to flood back to you, but they felt shrouded, like they were placed under a thick blanket. The blurry image of the tall statured man and his striking friend in the library came through.

“Sam and Castiel?” you muttered. “Yeah, I mean, they’ve asked for my help at the library the last few times I’ve been there but…”

He stared at you, his eyes lighting you on fire with intensity. “Why you?’

You shrugged, desperately hoping he’d believe you. It was the truth, or at least what you could remember of it.

“I don’t know. They were poking around in the same section as I was. I don’t even work in the library, I just go there for the community service. Looks good on a résumé.” He took his hand away from your face, and you flexed your sore jaw. “It was biblical studies, if that helps at all. I have no clue who they are outside of the library. I swear.”

He took a swig of his drink, thinking as he swallowed. Your eyes drifted along his sharp jawline, his big hands, his pink lips and otherwise bright eyes, when they weren’t shrouded in darkness. You were in awe, the fact that something so beautiful could be so heinous. You were in more shock, though, that you could even have such thoughts while under his constraint. Even among the fear in it all, there was a sort of calm that had come through you. He was powerful, you could tell by the way he held himself, yet you sensed he was holding back. Not a single profanity thrown your away, not a hit or slap, no cuts or bruises to be found. Hell, even the chains weren’t that tight.  You could hardly function because of your fear, yet somewhere deep in you, you knew that he didn’t want you to be in pain.

“I won’t help them anymore, if that’s what you want,” you bargained, your voice still shaky. “And no one has to know about this. Just let me go, and I won’t repeat a word of this to anyone. I-I promise.”

You blinked the tears out of your eyes, the idea of what could be next daunting. He wavered, looking at you strangely, up and down then back up again, his eyes never lingering anywhere but your eyes. You tried a fake smile, small and surely unbelievable, anything to get him to soften.

“No,” he said simply, his voice deep and husky.

“What?” Your voice was panicked, staring at him as he walked toward the wall with all the weapons. “No, no, I really am not any part of this I swear-“

You stopped when, to your surprise, he only placed the knife he had grabbed earlier back to its rightful hook on the wall. He leaned against a table, setting down his drink to rub his eyes. All you could see was his broad-shouldered back, but you could hear him muttering to himself.

“What’s gotten into me?”

With a shake of his head, he turned back to you. You looked up to him expectantly, unsure what to feel. You had hope, he would let you go. He would take out some keys and unlock you, lead you out of there, never to see each other again. The thought sent a strange pang through your chest, yet you still prayed for it.

Even with that being the best-case scenario, you were still shocked when the keys you expected to come from his suit jacket were replaced with a cloth soaked in chloroform, quickly covering your agape mouth. You looked up at him in shock, begging with your eyes. For the first time, a flicker of emotion came over his features, and then you were gone.

~~

You awoke to the soft sound of fire flickering, the room warm and the blankets wrapped you around in a false sense of safety and comfort. The recent events with your captor were your first thoughts, and your heart instantly started thudding in your ears. You became fully awake before daring to open your eyes, and even then, you waited a few seconds to hone in on your surroundings.  Begrudgingly, you finally opened your eyes.

The room was ornate and your slit eyes soon became wide with shock. This was no dungeon, not even close. It was…beautiful. Lavish art hung all over the walls, and out of your peripheral you saw the intricate design on your silk pillow case. A fire place was placed a meter or so from the foot of the bed, yet you could still feel the warmth from it. You blinked the fog from your eyes, turning onto your side ever-so-quietly. Your heart skipped a beat.

The man stood out on a balcony, looking into a dark horizon. All you could see was his bare back, toned muscle and tanned skin stretching across. He stood just as he did in the dungeon, leaning forward against the railing, his hands spread far apart on the bar. He remained half-dressed; the black dress pants, polished shoes, and the heavy gold watch all stayed, yet his top half was completely bare. Heat flooded your cheeks while looking at him. There was no sound from you but it was as though he could sense your eyes roaming over him, as he quickly turned his head, his eyes instantly connecting with yours. He stared for a while, before turning back to face his view.

Tentatively, you began to sit up from your place in bed, shivering as the soft fabric of the sheets slid off your skin. You eased your way toward the door but were instantly disheartened when it just jiggled slightly. Locked. With a few deep breaths, you gathered your courage to peek in on the terrifyingly intriguing man who stared out.

You stood in the doorframe for a moment, gasping at the sight from the balcony. It looked like the inside of a volcano, fire and magma and molten material decorating the landscape for as long as you could see. You couldn’t wrap your head around it; it was terrifying, yet absolutely awe-inspiring. Watching the hot magma pour through the valleys like a river was soothing, the hot material almost inviting.

“How are you feeling?” the man grunted. It took you a moment to come back to your senses, to realize the gravity of your situation.

“How do you think?” you sassed, your boldness shocking even you. He smirked, shaking his head.

“Bite me, sweetheart.” You were taken aback by the lack of edge in his words, his voice holding nothing of the malice it did at your first meeting. You were silent as you slowly stepped beside him, tapping against the metal of the railing before leaning against. You couldn’t believe your eyebrows weren’t being burnt off just from the shear proximity to the endless heat.

“Where are we?” you asked finally, your stomach churning at his reply.

“Hell,” he responded simply, not a speck of regret or fear showing. He seemed to be lost in thought, and you stared at his irises suspiciously. The black eyes weren’t just a delusion, then.

You closed your eyes, tightening your grasp on the railing, bracing yourself.

“Who are you? Y-you’re not…” you trailed off, the idea too heavy to even speak of.

“Satan?” he asked, a cocky smile on his lips. “No, better. I know how to keep out of a cage.”

“I have a feeling our ideas of ‘better’ are very different.”

He shrugged, going back into his thoughts again. You wanted to stare at him, look over his every feature to try and maybe garner a little more understanding of him, but the fear that he may look back with those eyes was too much. You snuck fleeting glances at him out of the corner of your eye, before your eyes settled on the strange mark on his forearm. It looked painful, like a burn, yet was perfectly shaped. He caught you staring, and turned to face you.

“Curious?” His simper was cocky, yet there was a note of uncertainty and discomfort in his tone. You nodded hesitantly, unsure what that would entail.

He went on to tell a story of a man named Dean and his brother Sam, who road tripped endlessly, killing all the things that go bump in the night. Demons, werewolves, vampires, the whole deal. They even added an angel to their bunch, Castiel.

“But Dean,” he laughed. “Was a sucker for sacrifice. You see this?” He pointed to the mark. “Mark of Cain, all to be strong enough to save the world. I look back now and find him disgusting for the constant martyr syndrome, but then I look at you…”

He trailed off, his brows furrowing as he stared at you. In his intensity, his eyes changed to that terrifying pitch black, and you couldn’t help but jump. He smirked ruefully, looking off into the distance.

“And now I’m this, and not once since I’ve become this amazing, powerful creature have I ever wished it away. Until now.” He sighed, letting his head drop as a war wore on inside him. It was a while before he spoke again, this time with much less vigor and wit, but a certain resignation.

“There’s this cheesy story about Cain and his woman, Colette. How she made him want to be good, how she gave him the will not to kill. I’ve always gagged at the thought but…” He stopped, straightening himself and facing you, his eyes back to a pretty green. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

You hesitated, looking from his eyes to the mark to the hellish landscape around you, all of it adding up yet not at the same time. Were you supposed to be terrified? You were, yet you weren’t, a certain comfort taking over you while in his presence. The idea of what he was though, the crimes he had probably committed… Yet looking into those eyes, those ridiculously green ones, you couldn’t help but feel a good heart within him, the real Dean kicking and screaming to get out again. Living in Hell was not something you felt necessarily comfortable with.

“So I guess this means you’re not going to let me leave then, huh?” you laughed nervously, finally breaking the heavy silence.

“No,” he murmured simply. “You can go.”

“What?”

“I can’t…I can’t hurt you. If leaving is what you want, then do it.” A guilt washed over you, the idea of leaving him feeling like a stab in the heart, but you couldn’t just take his word. A few hours ago, he had you tied up in a dungeon. Where were those tender feelings then?

“I still don’t have to tell anyone,” you offered, slowly backing into the bedroom.

He scoffed “It won’t matter anyway, you can tell Sam and Castiel all you want, I’ll be flying under the radar.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands together as you looked around the room for your things.

“Is…Is this the last time I’ll see you?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he urged, quickly turning on his feet and reaching into the drawer of the nightstand. Out came all your things; clothes, phone, wallet. All safe and sound, in the same shape they were before you got there. He handed you all of it, except for your phone. After a moment of fumbling with it, he placed it in your palm.

“There,” he muttered. “If you need me, my number’s there. I’d prefer it stay between you and I but…” He shrugged, the façade of nonchalance almost believable. Almost.

“Well,” you murmured, looking down at your things sadly. You set them on the bed, grabbing your clothes to go change. “I’ll just get dressed and get going, I suppose.”

You began to walk towards the bathroom, but he called out to you. You stopped, turning back around to face him. With two large strides, he was in front of you, so close you could feel his breath against your forehead. He took the clothes from your hand and threw them on the bed, his hands instantly going to hold your waist and cheek.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice deep and yearning. “ _No one knows you’re here._ You can stay, do what your,” he brushed his lips against your neck, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “ _Instincts_ are telling you. I know what I am scares you, but stay and I’ll show you that I can be different.”

The feeling of his skin on yours was intoxicating, his fingers warm and comforting as they caressed you, but your mind kept going back to your captivity just a few hours prior. Whether his feelings were true or not, it couldn’t be that easy.

“I need to go,” you managed, escaping his grasp to grab your clothes quickly. You hurried to the bathroom, your breathing heavy as you leaned against the door. In a flash, you were dressed, bracing yourself for the possibility of a fight. But there was none, the only challenge was the look of pain Dean had as you left.

~~

Seven hours. Seven god forsaken hours sat in that library, waiting over countless cups of coffee for Sam and Castiel to come wandering through. You nearly cried when you saw the rag-tag duo walk in. You rushed to them, much to their shock and discomfort.

“Sam! Castiel!” you called, grabbing onto their sleeves as though you were afraid they’d fly away. “We need to talk.”

They looked at each other in confusion before nodding hesitantly.

“Alright,” Sam said uncertainly. They followed you to the quiet area you’d found in the corner of the library, your purse and books strewn all over a table. You sat down with them, the copious amounts of coffee making you jittery. You explained it all, describing everything in detail for more your sake than theirs. Who else could you tell about this without starting a manhunt for your kidnapper? It was just too complicated for anyone to understand, because as much as it frightened you, you did feel a connection with the fearsome man.

“Y/N, right?” Sam asked when you were done venting. You nodded. “I’m so sorry that this has happened, that we got you involved. This has nothing to do with you.”

His sincerity was undeniable, but it did little to help.

“Yeah, well it does now. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you feel those things?” Castiel asked, squinting in thought. “Do you believe you have the connection that Cain did with Colette?”

“I-I…” you babbled. They both looked at you expectantly, neither of them judging. You hung your head, nodding.

“Y/N, my brother has done some…” Sam trailed off. “Some terrible things. This isn’t the brother I know, but it’s who he is now. We’re working non-stop to find a way to get rid of the mark. But if we can’t, he’s dangerous and… he needs to be stopped.”

The weight of his words made your stomach drop. You shook your head.

“I can’t help with that.”

“We need you to,” Castiel insisted, leaning forward on the table to lessen the distance between you. “This is bigger than any of us. He becomes more powerful by the second, and his urge to kill is insatiable.”

“I’m not going to help you kill him. I won’t do it, I can’t,” you concurred, crossing your arms. Sam sighed, grabbing Castiel by the shoulder and pulling him back.

“I get it, I do,” Sam comforted. “He’s my brother. The thought of him dead is unbearable, and I’m sure you’re feeling the exact same way. We’re not going straight for killing him, we all love him, but this really is bigger than you might think. I just ask that you give it some thought. Let me give you my number, and we can go from there.”

You conceded, letting him dial his number in your phone. With that, you left them behind in the library, feeling even more lost than you had before.

~~

You read the text over and over. A cure. A way to get rid of the damned mark and for this to all not be so complicated. Sam’s number sent you continual updates and explanations, but you didn’t care to read anything more. You were in knots trying to decide what was best. Lying on your bed, you stared at the ceiling, a sense of distrust running through you. It just felt too easy, too risky. Sam could be lying and you would lead Dean into some sort of death trap by calling him, or you could be saving countless lives and his own by helping him get cured.

“You’re cute when you’re all flustered,” a deep voice boasted. You quickly looked to your doorway to find Dean leaning against it, that smirk of his on full display. He was back to his cocky, intimidating self, the loving, tender Dean nowhere to be found. You stood up, walking up to him with a sense of power. With a few taps on your phone you could have Sam and Castiel on their way to kick his ass. He had to answer to you now.

“Dean,” you asserted.

“Hi baby doll, miss me?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea what you’ve got yourself wrapped up in?”

He laughed, the sound dripping with condescension.

“What, my brother and the angel? I’m not afraid of them. I’ve heard of the so-called cure they think they’ve found.”

“And?” you prompted.

“And it’s a crock,” he sighed.

“How do you know? Why not at least give it a try?”

“And risk dying? Besides, I’m not the one who wants it gone.”

“I do,” you insisted. “And if you’re not lying about this whole connection thing, shouldn’t you want to try for me?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’d be okay with me risking my life? Is what I am that bad to you?” He shook his head. “If what Cain said was true, he never killed while with Colette. He wanted to, but he didn’t.”

“I don’t know, Dean.” You rubbed your arms.

“I don’t either, and it goes against every instinct I have now but,” he shrugged. “I’m giving it a shot. I’m just asking for you to do the same.”

You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. “This is all just so much.”

To your surprise, he wrapped you up in his arms. “I know. But you’re strong enough to take it.”

Exhaling, you settled into the warmth of the hug, resting your head against his steady heart. You felt at ease, the idea of him being anything but wonderful seeming impossible.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” you mumbled against his chest.

“I might be,” he relented, kissing the top of your head. “But I can try not to be. _I will_. I will.”

You nodded, wanting him so much as the tears ran down your cheek. You wiped them away, leaning back to face him.

“I need you to promise me that,” you murmured. “Promise me that I’m not making a mistake.”

“I promise,” he assured, his eyes soft and amazed as they looked over your face. You nodded, a feeling of content sweeping through you as you basked in the comfort.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, brushing the hair from your face. He looked over every feature on your face, setting his forehead against yours. You smiled softly, earning the first genuine smile from him. Gently, he placed his lips against yours, passionate and tender. You returned the kiss gladly, tangling your hands in his hair. When he pulled away, there was a newfound spark in Dean’s eyes, a look of devotion that couldn’t be recreated.

“Let’s run away, find some secluded place to be alone forever. Come with me Y/N, let’s figure this out together.”

Just as the last word came from his mouth, your phone buzzed on your desk. You looked over at it and saw Sam calling. You began to reach to grab it, but wavered. With a newfound conviction, your hand swerved to the right, picking up your keys instead. You held them up in front of Dean, giving him a quick kiss.

“Let’s go.”

You two raced out the door, hand in hand, nothing but your keys coming along with you. As you drove off to who knows where, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted and, in a way, it had.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also found at: http://deansleather.tumblr.com/post/153621569613/marked
> 
> Overall blog (feel free to follow or strike up conversation!): http://deansleather.tumblr.com/


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